


What They Say About Potioneers

by WillGirl



Series: Not Their Fathers' Sons [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Crush, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation, Homosexuality, M/M, Post - Deathly Hallows, School, Slytherin Albus Severus Potter, Slytherin Scorpius Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillGirl/pseuds/WillGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy have started...something...but they aren't sure if it's exactly a relationship and, whether it is or not, what that means they're allowed to do to one another. Albus wants to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What They Say About Potioneers

Albus Potter was having a very, very difficult time paying attention in History of Magic today. Every day was a struggle, really; much as Albus genuinely and generally enjoyed school, those interminable lectures from Professor Binns were a soporific that it was a constant battle not to give in to. The only students who seemed to actually be immune to the tedium of Binns were Albus’s cousin Rose Weasley, and his best friend Scorpius Malfoy. Even Scorpius occasionally had some trouble with the boring ghost, and his notes were usually dotted with sections of exquisitely detailed doodles in places where listening had proved overwhelming, and he had had to resort to distraction to remain conscious. 

But today was, for Albus, simply excruciating. 

It was because of last week-end, he knew; it had been a decidedly important week-end, one that had changed Albus’s life, he was certain, forever. Over the week-end, he had accidentally kissed his best friend, and suddenly realized that he was in love with him. Even better, said friend seemed to share Albus’s affections, and they had spent more than one pleasurable interlude rolling around together, snogging and more than snogging. 

It was Scorpius Malfoy that Albus was in love with, and it was Scorpius now who was so distracting him. It was his fingers, and the things that his fingers now made Albus think of. They sparked all sorts of strange ideas in Albus’s mind, and he couldn’t get the stray thoughts out of his head. 

Right now he was, in fact, very glad that their uniforms consisted of loose robes. If he’d been wearing nothing but tight trousers, he would have had to admit to some embarrassment when it came time to stand up and leave. He wasn’t particularly _in a state_ , not yet…but he was clearly on his way towards one. Nothing that the robe wouldn’t easily conceal, thank Merlin…but more than he cared to have to explain just now, thank you. 

Especially because he wasn’t really sure where they stood. Oh, he knew how he felt; he thought he knew how Scorpius felt, too. They’d spent too many years practically reading one another’s minds for that to fall apart now, simply because they’d started snogging. They were too close for that to get in the way. Albus thought that Scorpius probably loved him every bit as much as he loved Scorpius; certainly there could be no doubt that they shared every last drop of mutual lust, at least. 

What wasn’t clear was exactly what they were going to _do_ about that. Being gay in this day and age in the Wizarding world was largely acceptable, but the idea of coming out was still daunting to the average teenage boy. And Albus knew now that he was gay; knew that he’d always been gay, and simply hadn’t noticed, because he’d never been looking before. Knew now why he’d been so obsessed with watching their former fellow Chaser on Slytherin’s Quidditch team, and it hadn’t all been about learning from the older boy’s skills, as Albus had always assumed. It had, rather, had quite a lot to do with the fact that Derrick Morgan had been incredibly fit, and Albus had enjoyed looking at him from an aesthetic sense as much as an athletic one. 

And Morgan wasn’t the only bloke he’d noticed; Albus just hadn’t ever noticed that he was noticing, until that kiss with Scorpius had made everything suddenly clear. 

He wasn’t sure if Scorpius was gay, though; he’d never noticed Scorpius paying any particular attention to other boys, but of course he’d never noticed him watching any girls, either. Perhaps Scorpius was bisexual, or perhaps Albus was simply an exception. They hadn’t gotten around to talking about things like that, not yet; perhaps Scorpius himself didn’t even know for sure. Certainly this was all new to Albus, and Scorpius had seemed every bit as taken aback by their suddenly revealed inclination himself. 

But whatever Scorpius’s orientation, the question then became what to _do_ about it. To tell people, or not? And who to tell, and what to tell them? Albus didn’t know, and he suspected that Scorpius was every bit as in the dark as he was. What would their parents say? How would Albus’s siblings and cousins react? What about their friends? 

What about their _friendship?_

Albus knew he should have been worrying about that—what if this, whatever this was, went sour somehow, and ruined things?—but he couldn’t work up much stress over that particular topic. He couldn’t imagine ever not being friends with Scor, couldn’t imagine anything ever that could come between them. For Merlin’s sake, they’d snogged several times now and even wanked one another off, and if that sort of intimacy didn’t make things weird—and it hadn’t—then what were the odds that anything could, really?

But what would they _tell_ people?

For that matter, what _were_ they, anyway, when it came around to telling things? What did they have to tell? They weren’t dating, they had yet to go on any dates, but they were certainly doing the sorts of things that one normally only did with the person that one was dating. But were they? They would go to Hogsmede together next week-end no doubt, they always did—but would they go together, or _together?_ And if it were the latter, would they be open about it, or keep the secret to themselves? 

Would they tell Rose?

Albus, personally, thought that he might like to keep it a secret, at least for now. It was new and special and he didn’t want to share the idea of Scorpius with anyone, not even Rose, not yet. He wanted to keep him all to himself, all his kisses and caresses and his beautiful little moans…

And his fingers, too. Albus definitely wanted to keep those long, exquisite digits solely for himself. He couldn’t stop thinking about them, about what they could do, about what they had done. 

One of those fingers had been _inside Albus_. It had been the strangest, most amazing sensation of his life, having a bit of Scorpius inside him. He couldn’t describe the feeling, there was nothing to compare it with, but he knew that he wanted to feel it again—right now, even, right in front of Binns and the whole class, he didn’t care, he just wanted Scorpius, wanted him right now—

Albus swallowed hard and pulled his eyes away from his friend (his boyfriend?). He forced himself to focus on the translucent form of Binns, although he couldn’t make sense of a single droning word. He tried to think about something else, anything else, to take his mind off of Scorpius and his fingers and what those fingers could do to Albus, but the first _something else_ that popped into his mind was no help, either. 

Because that something else was something that he would very much like to do to Scorpius, preferably sooner rather than later. He’d been thinking about it ever since the first time they had…whatever they were doing together. He’d almost done it, then; had thought about doing it, at least, but there hadn’t been time. And then he’d been too shy, later, to suggest it. What if Scorpius thought it was weird and, more importantly, what if Albus was rubbish?

What he really wanted to do was to put Scorpius inside him again, but not his fingers—although he wouldn’t mind doing it to them, too—but not this time; this time he wanted his cock. He wanted to take it into his mouth and suck out every last drop of pleasure. He wanted to watch Scorpius writhe and gasp beneath him, lost in disheveled ecstasy, and taste what that felt like. 

Only he thought that would be a bit weird to suggest. 

He knew, of course, the basic concept of a blow job; there wasn’t a teenage boy anywhere in the world, Albus figured, who did not. But he’d never had one himself, and he’d never given one either. He knew that blokes were supposed to like them, were supposed to want them—and he couldn’t imagine ever objecting, if the opportunity were to present itself—but he had a feeling that people weren’t supposed to want to _give_ them. It seemed, to Albus, that oral sex was more of an obligation: something that one did when dating someone, as a sort of favor to the other person. 

But Albus couldn’t get the idea out of his head, hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since it had first crossed his mind that first time in his bed. He’d licked Scorpius, then, but gone no further; there hadn’t been time. 

Albus watched Scorpius fiddle with the feathery tuft of his quill. He was chewing on his lip—and Albus loved that lip; loved catching it between his own, tugging at it with his teeth, feeling it tease a path across his body—and he had clearly lost the thread of Binns’s lecture, because he was doodling absently in the margins of his notes. They’d both be copying off Rose later, then, to get the rest of their notes from today. 

Albus leaned over to see what it was that Scorpius was drawing: a broom, of course. The newest Twigger model, just out last week, and probably the next broom that Scorpius’s father would buy him. Scorpius was fickle when it came to broomsticks, always falling for the newest, fastest, freshest version on the market, and Draco Malfoy never hesitated to buy his son whatever caught his fancy, which meant that Scorpius went through broomsticks faster than most people went through sugarquills. 

And _that_ had Albus’s mind wandering off into daydreams of _riding_ , but not _broomsticks_ , and he had to struggle very hard to master his thoughts or it wouldn’t matter _how_ loose his robes were, he wouldn’t have been able to stand up without embarrassing himself. 

That settled it. He had to get this…this _obsession_ out of his head. The best way to do that, Albus figured, was to act on it. And if that meant asking Scorpius something weird, well, they’d surely discussed stranger things than blow jobs in their six years of friendship. 

Now he just had to live through History of Magic long enough to ask…

 

The wait had been interminable, but at last class was over. Albus crammed his books hurriedly and haphazardly into his satchel, then waited impatiently for Scorpius to neatly pack his own things away. Scorpius was perpetually fastidious, and would not be rushed, not even by Albus fidgeting at his side. 

Finally the pale, shorter boy tugged the last clasp of his bag and pushed his chair back under the desk. Albus grabbed his arm and all but dragged him out of the room. 

He pressed him straight into the nearest alcove, shoving Scorpius up against the cold wall and snogging him breathlessly. Albus didn’t even care that the tapestry they were behind only partially hid them from view. Any of the Slytherins or Ravenclaws walking out of the classroom would have been easily able to guess what was going on, and probably who was doing it. But they had been the last to leave, or at least Albus thought they had been, and either way, he couldn’t possibly have waited one second longer before kissing his Scorpius. 

Scorpius didn’t seem to mind, if the hungry way he surged upwards into Albus’s mouth was any indication. He met the other’s questing tongue with his own and wrapped his arms around Albus’s waist, pulling the two of them closer together. Albus rested his own hands on Scorpius’s slim hips, his fingers tugging against the muffling fabric of the other’s robe. He ran his hands up Scorpius’s sides, wishing the robe was gone and he could feel his cool skin instead. One of Scorpius’s hands trailed upwards and tangled in Albus’s messy hair. Albus could have stayed there like that forever, if that insistent idea would just stop niggling at his thoughts. 

But he couldn’t put it out of his mind, not even here in the middle of snogging Scorpius. He broke away reluctantly, with several lingering nips and kisses. They stood pressed together for a few minutes, panting. Scorpius leaned his forehead against Albus’s chest, and Albus rested his chin lightly on the shorter boy’s bowed head. 

“Merlin,” one of them whispered, and Albus had no idea who. 

“Come on.” Albus grabbed his friend’s hand and pulled him out of the alcove. Scorpius absently smoothed his fair hair; Albus ignored his own. Not only could nothing short of very serious magical concoctions tame his dark locks, but there was no sense in even trying. Scorpius couldn’t possibly rumple Albus’s hair up any worse than it already was. 

Albus magicked open the lock of the nearest classroom; it was, he knew, generally unused, and thus would make an excellent spot for a bit of privacy. After all, Albus might have worked up the courage to ask Scorpius his question, but that didn’t mean he wanted anyone else overhearing him. 

Especially since he didn’t know what they _were_ yet, the two of them. 

But that was for later. Right now, he had more a more important question to ask. 

“So what’s this, then?” Scorpius said. The mischievous glee in his smirk told Albus that Scorpius thought he had guessed very well what sort of thing _this_ was going to be, and that he was looking forward to finding out the details. 

This was not, of course, the first time that Albus and Scorpius had snuck off together into an empty classroom, but it was the first time that the illicit activities they were thus attempting to hide would be of this particular nature. This would be less pranking or poisoning, and more…pelvic. 

Albus blushed. 

“Um,” he said. “Well, I wanted to…I mean, I had something to ask you.”

Scorpius nodded. “Go on,” he said easily, turning away briefly to seal the door behind them. _Clever move_ , thought Albus, who was too frazzled right now to think of sensible things like that himself. 

“Well, it was something I…something I wanted to do,” said Albus. “Um. With you. If you want to, that is.”

“What is it?” Scorpius asked. He looked nervous, but eager too; he was as out of his depth in this area as Albus was, but so far they’d both very much been enjoying their exciting new branch of study.

“I wanted to, um. Suck you. Actually,” Albus said. His face burned absolutely crimson and Albus wouldn’t have been surprised to find that he had in fact caught fire. 

Scorpius blinked, startled, then stared at him. His chill grey eyes were very wide. “You wanted to what?” he asked dumbly. 

“Um. Suck you?” Albus repeated quietly. “Suck you off, I mean?”

Scorpius gaped, then his ashen cheeks slowly colored. “Oh,” he said. His voice sounded very small and strangled. “Um. Did you?”

Albus nodded. 

“A-all right,” Scorpius stammered, swallowing hard. “If you, um, if you want to…”

Albus sagged with relief although his grin was shaky. “Yeah,” he said, “I think I do. If you’re all right with it?”

Scorpius shrugged. “Well…sure,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never…”

Albus shook his head. “Me neither,” he said. “So if you want to change your mind…I mean, I might be rubbish, I should warn you…I just, I dunno, I’ve been thinking about it, and…and I’d like to try, if you’d like to, um…let me, I guess?”

Scorpius licked his lips nervously. “O-okay,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” echoed Albus. “Well, um. I guess…come over here, then.” He beckoned Scorpius away from the door. The other boy, still blushing, hesitantly walked to Albus. 

“I guess, um…I guess you should stand against something?” Albus hazarded. 

“Like one of the desks?” Scorpius suggested. 

Albus nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, that should work…”

Scorpius did as advised. He looked very small and self-conscious next to the squat wooden desk. 

“Okay,” said Albus. “Okay. Well, um…I guess…I guess next you should, um…well, I mean, you’re kind of…wearing too many clothes?”

“Oh.” Scorpius flushed darker. “Oh, right,” he said. Burning with embarrassment, he pulled his robes over his head and folded them neatly before setting them down on the desk behind him. He loosened his tie nervously and Albus managed a smile that he hoped was encouraging and confident. Scorpius swallowed very hard before reaching down to undo his belt. 

Albus stared fixedly at those fantastic fingers as they slowly unhooked the clasp, then brushed past the metal loop to undo the buttons of the trousers themselves. Albus leaned forward as if in a daze, almost hypnotized, to help Scorpius pull his slacks down. It was Albus’s turn, now, to lick lips that had suddenly gone quite dry. Then he tentatively tugged Scorpius’s boxers down to his knees, as well, revealing an already half-swollen cock. This wasn’t the first time that Albus had seen, or touched, Scorpius’s bits, but somehow they seemed bigger now than they had before, and he wasn’t even standing the whole way erect yet. Albus wondered how he was going to manage this, but he didn’t let himself get caught up by second-guesses. Not now.

He dropped to his knees in front of his friend and reached forward. 

“Wait,” said Scorpius, turning away. Albus froze, fighting panic, but Scorpius had only reached back to pull his robe off the desk. He nudged Albus aside and dropped the black cloth to the floor in front of him. “If you’re, um, if you’re going to kneel on the stone like that,” Scorpius said, his pale cheeks absolutely flaming, “then you should, um, should have some padding, right?”

“Ah,” said Albus, nodding. “Good idea. Right.” 

He licked his lips again and drank in the surprisingly intimidating sight of Scorpius Malfoy. _Come on, you git_ , Albus scolded himself silently, _you’ve been fantasizing about this for five days now. Grow a pair already, and do what you’ve been dreaming, would you?_

The mental heckling did its job, and Albus reached out with both hands. Scorpius throbbed between his fingers and Albus couldn’t restrain a smile. Scor gasped at the sudden contact and he pressed his own hands against the hard edge of the desk, as if already anticipating having to cling on to it to remain upright. 

Albus leaned in close, his breath making Scorpius shiver slightly, and slowly, hesitantly, Albus stuck out his tongue. He very, very lightly licked the tip of Scorpius’s cock. 

Scorpius gasped again, louder this time, and Albus could feel that every last inch of him shuddered at the touch. Emboldened, Albus leaned in again, for a longer foray this time. He lapped his tongue around the sides of Scorpius’s rapidly hardening shaft, then flicked a brief touch beneath. He rubbed his fingers along the sides of Scorpius’s cock, and felt the other boy tremble. 

Albus grinned, still nervous although things were certainly going well—very well—so far. He grew more daring, and now closed his entire mouth around the tip of Scorpius, darting his tongue forward to probe at the wet slit in the middle. 

Scorpius groaned, his hands going tight around the desk. 

Albus moved forward, licking and pulling and tasting as he went. There were a few false starts, and once Scorpius hissed in pain when Albus’s teeth brushed against the sensitive tip of his cock, but when Albus moved to sit back and apologize Scorpius nearly pleaded for him not to stop, so Albus pressed on. 

He gauged his actions by Scorpius’s responses: gasps and moans of pleasure and surprise were good things, as were incoherent word streams and any repetition of Albus’s name. Twitches and hissed breath and tiny grimaces were, of course, bad. 

Albus grew bolder and began experimenting, seeing how far he could suck Scorpius into his mouth, and how fast or slow he could pull him out again. He couldn’t help but grin, once, at a stray thought that crossed his mind: _I guess it’s true,_ Albus reflected, _how people say that Potioneers tend to lack proper gag reflexes…_ Albus smirked, wondering if he had ever before been quite so glad to have a strong interest in Potions as he was at that moment. 

Then Scorpius groaned and Albus’s focus narrowed to a very specific point in front of him. He had one of his hands braced against Scorpius’s boney hip and the other wrapped around the back of one thigh, but now he slowly brought that one up and along the round curve of Scorpius’s arse. Albus hesitated—with his hands, at least; the rest of him kept up the steady pace—then pressed his fingers against the puckered hole of Scor’s anus. His fingers were hot and wet with a mixture of spit and sticky pre-cum and slipped easily inside the tight opening. 

Scorpius yelped and his back arched, driving his cock forward into Albus’s mouth. His fingers went white-knuckled around the edge of the desk and his legs wobbled. Albus took a moment to get his breath back—allowing Scorpius to do the same—and then tentatively began twitching his finger back and forth. Scorpius moaned and trembled and barely managed to stay upright. He gasped something that sounded like a very stuttered version of Albus’s name and one of his hands came free of the desk to tangle itself in Albus’s messy hair. 

Albus thought briefly about pointing out how clever he had been to suggest the desk; Scorpius would never have been able to stay upright without its support. But talking wasn’t exactly an option at the moment, even talking to draw attention to his own brilliance. Blow jobs, Albus noted, certainly weren’t conducive to conversation. Still, they had other benefits: namely the sight of Scorpius gasping in helpless ecstasy under Albus’s ministrations. 

Albus increased the pace, gradually bringing his finger-thrusts up to match speed with his mouth’s pull on Scorpius’s cock. The other boy was shaking and panting heavily and had passed well beyond the point of proper coherence, but Albus could still pick up the gist of what he was trying to say, the warning he was trying to give. 

Albus stuck with what he was doing anyway, eagerly ready when Scorpius jerked forward and came in a long, shaking orgasm directly into Albus’s mouth. He still coughed a little on the thick, hot liquid, but managed to retain most of it; a little dribbled down his chin, but he swallowed the rest, enjoying the utterly alien yet somehow almost familiar taste of Scorpius. It didn’t taste _good_ , by any means—bitter and salty and strange—but Albus enjoyed it anyway, because it was Scor’s, and now it was his. 

He sat back on his haunches and wiped his chin. Scorpius sank slowly to the floor in front of him, then fell forward shaking into Albus’s arms. Their kiss was long and gentle and lingering, with Albus’s sticky lips smearing Scorpius’s own cum back on his face. 

“Was that all right?” Albus whispered as they lay down together on Scorpius’s crumpled robes. 

Scorpius nodded. “Perfect,” he murmured back, snuggling in close to Albus. 

Albus grinned and wrapped his arms tightly around his best friend. He licked his lips thoughtfully. As far as activities went, Albus reflected, this one definitely seemed to be worth repeating. 

“As far as I know, anyway,” Scorpius said, after a moment. 

“What?” said Albus. 

“Well, I’ve never had one before,” Scorpius pointed out reasonably. “For all I know you botched it up quite terribly.”

“You prat!” Albus exclaimed. He punched Scorpius in the shoulder. 

Scor chuckled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loved it. That was the best blow job I’ve ever had. But as it was also the _only_ one I’ve ever had, I really can’t be held to be a reliable judge of technique, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I can’t believe you,” said Albus, although of course he could. He rolled his eyes. “I swear, if you say one word about collecting data or testing hypotheses, I will smack you so hard…”

Scorpius laughed. 

They lay together for a few minutes, perfectly comfortable despite the hard stone floor and their thin bit of cushioning fabric. Scorpius’s long fingers were gently stroking Albus’s cheek and Albus thought that this empty classroom had to be one of the best places in the whole castle—maybe in the entire world. He was half-stupefied with contentment despite his own pleasurably hard erection; he felt too happy just as he was to think about moving to do anything about that right now. Scorpius’s fingers were amazing and Albus would probably ask for their assistance later, but for now he was just enjoying holding him and being held in turn. They still had a lot to sort out, of course, but that could all come later as well; right now, things were perfect just as they were. 

“I think I’m going to need a minute, though,” Scorpius said quietly. 

“Hmm?” murmured Albus. 

“Before I can reciprocate, I mean,” said Scorpius. 

Albus blinked. “Oh,” he said. He could feel his cheeks flushing. “ _Oh_ ,” he said again. “Um, yeah. If you like.” 

Scorpius nodded and curled closer, planting short little kisses all along Albus’s neck and jawline. Albus swallowed hard. He hadn’t thought about _that_ …but he was not, of course, going to object to the idea. Now that it was in his head, in fact, he wondered how he’d ever be able to think of anything else. 

Albus grinned and returned the kisses, rolling over on top of Scorpius for better access to his collarbone, and that sensitive earlobe too, of course…

“After all,” Scorpius said, sounding slightly breathless, “if we don’t collect more data…”

“Swot,” said Albus. He fought the urge to smile, and managed to screw his face into a decently annoyed glare instead. 

Scorpius laughed. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” He smirked. “Although,” he said slyly, “I suppose we _did_ test out _one_ hypothesis already…”

Albus groaned, but knew he had to ask. “What?” he said. 

Scorpius’s smirk broadened. “It seems that Potioneers,” he said, “really _don’t_ have much of a gag reflex after all…”

Albus smacked him. 


End file.
